No Deals Needed
by jmr27
Summary: How did the Men of Letters in Britain become so twisted and evil? Where did their "code" come from? A demon explains. One-shot.


NOTE: How did the Men of Letters in the British chapter become such a ruthless, twisted bunch? Demonic help, of course!

 **1946, London, England**

Avery leaned back against the bar, sipping a bitter brew. The host he was currently wearing hated the stuff, and his revulsion at every swig filled Avery with warm fuzzies. All part of the infinite pleasures of being a demon.

Of course, it wasn't all play and no work. There were quotas to fill, souls to collect, people to kill. Hell needed souls to swell the ranks, and it was every demon's job to help bring them in. Some worked the crossroads, making deals. Some just killed a lot of people, and figured the odds would mean at least a few would make it downstairs. Others were specialists, taking years to torment one soul. It was all fun and games, sure, but sometimes, Avery just wanted to sit back and enjoy a pint.

Hence "The Code." It was a stroke of genius, a set-up so clever it would send souls to Hell for generations to come. The best part was that Avery didn't have to lift a finger. He got to sit back and watch the dominoes fall. Avery drew in another deep draft, smacked his lips, and cackled as his host shuddered at the taste.

Perfection.

"What are you wearing?" A low voice hissed. Avery turned to see his friend Greaves, wearing a skinny young accountant. The meat-suit gave him a nervous look.

Avery shifted his shoulders and grinned. "Man of Letters. Like it?"

Greaves glanced to the left and right before sitting down next to Avery. "How'd you pull that off?"

"Now, that would be telling." It had taken some clever spell-work, and a hot poker drawing seals on the hosts' skin. The internal shrieks from the trapped man had only sweetened the process. "I've been to three chapter meetings, and let me tell you, life amongst the other half is fine indeed."

"Until they catch you. They know people who make knives that can kill us. They won't just exorcise you, you'll be finished for good."

"They'll never suspect me," Avery said, and sipped on his beer again. "I've helped them find their way, see the light, forge a new path against the evil out there." He gestured broadly to the crowd of white-collar workers in suits and ties that filled the pub. "I'll rake in a hundred souls in the next fifty years alone, and I'll never have to make one deal."

Greaves' jaw dropped. "No deals? Do you know what Crowley will say to that?"

"King of the Crossroads? He'll toast my good health and pat me on the back. I bet you every Man of Letters on this little island nation will wind up downstairs."

"Those holier-than-thou-never! They're too much like angels, they all go upstairs."

"Every last Man of Letters here in Britain is going straight down." Avery pointed meaningfully at the floor. "The Americans wouldn't go for it, there was a fantastic row. But the Brits! Barely out of a war, London in shambles, they practically fell over themselves to sign up. To pledge their lives to the Code. To bring a new order to a dying legacy."

Greaves' eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "Code?"

"Aye, the Code. I know how much you love a good cock fight, but just you watch. There'll be no need of that anymore, not when the Men of Letters are throwing their own children into the ring. Law and order! Oh, the torment it will bring."

"You got them to buy it?

Avery gestured to his own torso. "I'm wearing their most revered and conservative member. The man who saw them through that awful war. He has a vision to rid the island of everything supernatural. No more monsters. As long as they stick to the Code. Heck, they even helped write some of it. You could see their little souls turning black as we spoke."

A smile spread across Greaves face. "Brilliant."

"True." Avery pressed a hand to his chest in acknowledgement. "Now, I need you to kill my host in a particularly gruesome fashion. To seal the deal, you know. Nothing like a martyr to keep the Code in place for generations to come."

Greaves smiled and rubbed his hands together gleefully. "It's been a while since I pulled out entrails."

Avery cackled while his host whimpered inside. He raised his tankard high. "To the Code!"

 **Reviews are appreciated!**


End file.
